The Night Watch
by Holyscout
Summary: Security guard Mike Schmidt is released from duty after a robbery forces his employer into bankruptcy. Evicted from his luxury condo, Mike now lives in a run down apartment complex in the outskirts of the city. With bills piling up he takes the only job he can find, and even with his experience the pizzeria might be too much to handle. Rated T for violence.
1. Old Pains, New Opportunity

**A/N: Oh boy you clicked on my story! Well, before you jump right in, there are a few things I need to clear up.**

**(1) Golden Freddy doesn't exist in my story. I saw him as a crude and underdeveloped easter egg (although creepy and scary) in the game with no real story to support him, just a bunch of theorizing. And to be honest, I think that's exactly what he's supposed to be. So no, no GFreddy here.  
>(2) The animatronics are not haunted by the dead children in my story. Then my plot that I had come up with for so long (like two days) wouldn't work at all.<br>(3) Bonnie will be a female animatronic...however that works. It's just how I saw him/her when I first heard of FNAF and I'll mainly be using it to justify using the pronoun 'her' in the story's future. TBH I don't know why it would bother anyone since it has no significance to the plot at all.  
>(4) There is no shipping. Of any sort. At the most some friendship but NOTHING close to hardcore shipping. Sorry to disappoint anyone who wanted that.<strong>

**Well you made it through the A/N. Enjoy!...I hope.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Five Nights at Freddy's. It's a sad story.**

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><p>The alarm struck 6 a.m., the resounding b<em>eep beep beep!<em> filling the dusty room. A few stray beams of light made their way into the room through the blinds in the window, illuminating the particles floating around the room.

A mass of sheets moved as the alarm continued, a droning snore cut short before a hand reached out from the bundle and slammed the snooze button. As much as he wanted to sleep and forget about it all, it just wouldn't leave him be…

_The guard sat at his office as he watched the cams through his company-supplied tablet, bouncing from room to room and thoroughly scanning it before moving on. As much as he wanted to just sit down and relax, he'd caught wind of a new crew running amok the district robbing banks and stores left and right. He even heard that they started working with a Russian mob running drugs to and fro. They were bad news, and the jeweler he was hired at was just one of the many bound to be in their crosshairs._

_As he flipped through the cams for the umpteenth time, he noticed a silhouette – or rather, four silhouettes – skulking about the main floor. It was them, he was absolutely sure it was them, but he couldn't figure out why they hadn't already started the display glass and stealing the jewels. That is until he remembered just who these guys were._

_There was an alarm connected to the glass, and the only way to shut it off was the alarm box in the manager's office that was locked by a keycard scanner, and the guard had the only keycard in sight. That meant they knew the well-kept secret of the store, and that they were eventually going to find out that he had the only keycard in the entire building. He quickly decided that he wasn't going down without a fight, so he grabbed his standard issue Maglite, Taser, and gun before slowly opening the door._

_He turned on his Maglite and pointed it down the hallway, flooding the long stretch with light. It covered every inch of the brown wallpaper and velvet carpet, illuminating the dark expanse far beyond the rounded corner that was just out of the guard's view. He cursed himself under his breath for giving away his position before shutting off his Maglite. However, it was too late, hearing somebody whisper "There's a guard over there." It had come from the very end of the hallway, and the way they projected their voice down it made it almost seem as if they were taunting him to try and do something_

_The guard tensed, pulling out the Chimano 88, a modified Glock 18 for contractor use only, and shouted down the hall with a shaky but loud voice, "If someone's around that corner, come around slowly with your hands on your head!" No response. He started to inch down the hallway and froze when he heard the light shuffle of shoes against the soft carpet. That's when it turned south. _

_A figure quickly turned the corner pointing a Chimano 88 of their own, only attached with a suppressor and laser sight. The sight emitted a beam that left a dot on the guard's abdomen, highlighting exactly what they were aiming at, causing the guard to try and move to cover in the open hallway. Then the intruder fired two quick shots, one missing and leaving a hole in the guard's office door with the other hitting the guard's right shin. It all happened within a few seconds._

_The guard cried out in pain as he collapsed onto the carpet, grabbing at the searing pain in his shin, dropping his gun to the floor. The intruder took this chance to quickly move down the hallway and pick up the guard's Chimano 88, the other three intruders following in suite. The guard looked up for a brief moment, catching a glimpse of the clown mask the intruder was wearing. _

_It was a red and white striped mask with a blue square and white stars in the left corner. How funny, it was a mask with an American flag design on it. It only took the masked figure a second to realize the guard was still conscious before quickly remedying it with a kick to face. A sickening _crack _came from the guard's nose as he yelped in pain before blacking out, blood dribbling from his nose and shin, mixing in with the velvet carpet._

_With the guard out of the way the robbers were free to take his Gensec keycard off his person, turn off the alarm system, smash the store up and steal all the jewels as well as loot the cash registers and safe. It's almost as if they had known the store was in the process of transferring money from bank to bank. _

_That was a month ago. _

_The store soon went bankrupt from the utter lack of money the establishment had left, and had to release the already hospitalized guard from service. _

_That was yesterday._

That same guard was now getting up out of bed, his shaggy brown hair covering his eyes as he swung his legs over the bedside and stood up, his right leg dropping for a moment from the sudden pressure. With a groan the man proceeded to limp over to the bathroom to begin his new routine of feeling sorry for himself.

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><p>The man collapsed into the sofa in the stuffy living room, his disabled cable box a rude reminder of the bills piled up on the cushion beside him. He began to browse the ads in the newspaper, begging for a job offer to be there. And then he saw it.<p>

**HELP WANTED**

**Freddy Fazbear's Pizza**

**Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work nightshift 12 am to 6 am. Monitor camera, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters. Not responsible for in- $120 a week. To apply, call 1-888-Faz-Fazbear.**

There was a smudge of ink covering the letters after 'in', but the guard assumed it was injury. _Not a problem_ he thought, _although the sheer lack of income is._ He sighed. _It's only until I can find something better_ he assured himself. With that thought in mind, he got up from the couch and strolled over to the phone, dialing in the number and waiting. And waiting. And waiting. An-

"Mr. Fazbear manager of Freddy Fazbear's speaking, how can I help you?" a man said through the phone in a monotonous tone.

"Eh, yeah. I was calling to see if the night watch position was open?"

There was a long pause, nothing but slow, heavy breathing on the other end until the manager uttered, "Yes, yes. Of course. Come in at 5 p.m. today for your interview."

Before Mike could even say goodbye the manager had already hung up, nothing but a dial tone. He shrugged. A busy man no doubt. However, Mike had other problems: he had no smart clothes he could think of, except…

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><p>Mike showed up at the pizzeria in a dark blue polo with black slacks and equally dark dress shoes. They were the same clothes he had worn when he interviewed for his job at the diamond store. He felt that even though it reminded him of his failure, perhaps it would offer him a new opportunity elsewhere, or at least get him on his feet again.<p>

He checked the time on his Timex watch – 5 p.m. to the dot – before nonchalantly opening the doors into the pizzeria. He could immediately hear the laughter of children followed the happy lyrics of a child's song. He tried to suppress his limp as he walked into the restaurant, fearing the children might start to wonder about him.

To his left was the reception desk and to the right was the dining area and show stage. He looked over at the stage, eyeing the animatronics. That was when the purple one looked directly over at him, straight into his eyes. Chills ran down as his spine as the animatronic continued to stare at him, still singing in tune to the cheesy song. Just to make it more unnerving, the children sang in tune to the animatronics' tune.

A loud "Ahem" brought him out of his daze and looked over to the receptionist.

"Excuse me sir", she asked. "What can I help you with today?"

He looked over at her before clearing his throat and stating, "I'm here for the job interview at 5?"

The receptionist looked him up and down before supplying, "Down the hall to the office in the back, can't miss it."

He nodded muttering a quick "Thank you" before walking down the hall to the office. The walls transformed from a cheery light blue with stars randomly painted on the wall to a faded black with scratches and dents to no end. He furrowed his brow in thought as he continued walking down the hallway. _What could have made those marks?_

He shortly made it to the end of the hallway and turned to the open door. He saw who he could only guess was Mr. Fazbear himself sitting in the chair, staring at monitors covered in text, data, and tables. He uttered a light cough to attract the attention of Mr. Fazbear, who looked quickly at him before relaxing his pose. "Mr. Schmidt!" the manager bellowed. He didn't sound at all like he did on the phone, this Mr. Fazbear being much more lively and open. _What changed?_

He was a plump man with red cheeks and nose and a receding grey hair line who dressed in almost identical attire to Mike. He stood up from the chair and strode over to Mike as fast as his pot belly and short legs would allow, extending his hand out. "Mr. Fazbear, at your service!" Mike returned the gesture with a firm handshake. "Mike Schmidt."

"Well now, good to meet your acquaintance Mr. Schmidt. Can I call you Mike?" Mike nodded before the manager continued, barely breaking his momentum. "Great! Now tell me, what do you offer to the job?"

Mike shuffled in place before speaking slowly, "I used to work as the night guard for Gioielli Di Famiglia, the jewelry store. That is… until it got robbed and went bankrupt."

The manager nodded. "I heard about that. Poor guard got shot silly and the criminals proceeded to ransack the place."

Mike stopped shuffling in place. "Yeah, a shame for that guy..."

Mr. Fazbear dipped his head in thought for a moment before happily saying, "Well, you got the job!"

Mike looked at him quickly before stating, "Sir, I just answered one question. Isn't there anything else you need to ask me?"

"Like what?"

Mike thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Never mind." _No sense in arguing with a good thing._

"Now Mike, I need to get you your uniform. Follow me please." Mike complied and followed Mr. Fazbear to the supply closet. The manager opened a locker and pulled out a blue jacket with SECURITY on the back right below the collar and again on the chest, along with a pair of dark brown cargo pants before handing them to Mike.

"Last but not least, your belt!" the manager beamed before handing Mike a black belt with various pouches and holsters. It held a Maglite, projectile Taser, and black baton, with an empty holster that was supposed to hold a Chimano 88. "Since we're a family oriented restaurant, guns don't sit well with staff, including myself, even if it is just for the night guard."

Mike shrugged. _It's a restaurant, the only idiots who would try to rob the place would probably turn tails and run at the sight of the animatronics. _He shuddered at thought. _I think I would too._ "Well, now that you're acquainted with your gear and uniform, I expect you to come in at 11:55 ready to start your shift at 12, and any gear you lose will be deducted from your paycheck. Your office is the same one you found me in, and we had our last security guard leave you some instructions in the form of a recording before he retired. Have a good day!"

Mike nodded and gathered up the uniform and utility belt, turning around and preparing to leave until Mr. Fazbear called after him. "Oh! I forgot to mention, you don't receive any pay until the end of the week, so you have to come to all five nights at Freddy's for your check." Mike nodded again before turning back around and leaving the pizzeria, unaware of what was to come. As the doors continued to swing back and forth, the manager's smile finally faded away into a guilty frown. "Poor kid", he muttered to himself. He soon replaced it with his well-practiced smile as a young boy came up to him to ask him a question. The night shift was filled, but for how long?

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><p><strong>AN: Whew. Ok, that only took me about five hours to write, stare at, erase, rewrite, and finalize the first chapter. Geeze. Anyway, I'm aching for reviews, and I need all the help I can get. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Did it burn out your eyeballs? I MUST KNOW!**

**Oh, and for the first person who adds the game I was referring to in Mike's flashback and again when he's talking to the manager to their review gets a free shoutout in the next exciting Pre-chapter A/N.**

**Later!**


	2. The First Night

**A/N: Well, hello again! I didn't think I'd be pushing this chapter out the door as I did (I was actually thinking of scrapping this story) but I decided to write it anyway. Before I forget, kudos to dreadfather666 for guessing correctly on the references I made yesterday: they're from Payday 2. Now before you tan my hide for not putting it in the crossover section, it won't play a large role in the story other than being a source of lost pride for Mike. HOWEVER! If I get enough support I _could _make a oneshot where the Payday gang rob the pizzeria for reasons unknown. BUT ONLY if I get support which equals reviews.**

**Enough boring A/N though. On to the story!**

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><p>Mike stood in his small living room, looking over his person one last time to make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything for the night shift. <em>Maglite. <em>He unscrewed the top of the Maglite and dumped out the batteries, inspecting them before dropping that back into the tube. _Check. Taser. _He pulled the older model Taser from his belt and aimed down the sights. _Check. Baton. _He pulled out the worn, black baton and grabbed the handle with the long arm resting against his forearm._ Check. Chimano. _He reached for the section that would hold his firearm, only to not find it._ Right. _

Satisfied, he zipped up the security jacket and grabbed his keys off the old coffee table before heading out the door of his apartment. As he turned to the left towards the stairwell he bumped into none other than the landlord himself.

"Ah Mike! I was just coming up to collect the rent" the man stated.

_Crap. _"O-Oh! Mr. Andrews. I-I just got hired at a new job, and I don't get the paycheck until the end of this week. I'll get it to you, I promise."

Mr. Andrews sighed as he covered his eyes. "You know, you said that the last time we met over this. Can you at least tell me the name of the place you're working at?"

"Oh, I'm working the night shift at a family pizzeria. Some place named Freddy Fazbear's."

Mr. Andrews already pale face seemed to turn completely white as Mike mentioned the name. "Y-you're working at that place?"

"Yeah, is there something I should know about it?" _Mr. Andrews looks like he's seen a ghost. What the hell is with this place?_

"Well… I'm not one to condone rumors… but they say that place..." The aging landlord paused for a while in thought about what to say. "Well… let's just say it has some bad history…" he finished.

"Such as?"

"Well, there was th-" Mr. Andrews was cut off by Mike's watch alarm.

"Oh shoot! I'm gonna be late. We'll have to talk later Mr. Andrews." And with that, Mike was quickly going down the two flights stairs two steps at the time, keys in hand and focus in his eyes.

Mr. Andrews looked over the rail at Mike, shaking his head and muttering, "Why would he take a job _there_?" With that, the landlord proceeded up the stairs to his office, planning on getting the 'For Rent' sign just in case.

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><p>Mike rolled up in his blue Chevy Camaro that he had miraculously kept throughout his unemployment. Perhaps the even greater miracle was that it still hadn't broken down or even gotten a scratch since Mike dropped his car insurance.<p>

Nevertheless, Mike got out of the car, shutting the door with a firm swing before locking it and heading to the restaurant doors. The grime on the outer walls were much more noticeable at night, even with just two lights illuminating the parking lot, giving it a rundown look that sent chills down his spine. _Christ, this place gives me the creeps just looking at it. _He sighed. _Better get used to it. _

He pushed open the doors, the unoiled hinges making a loud, ominous screech upon entry. The lights were dimmed, but not to point of having the lack of sight. The receptionist desk was empty, and there were only a few janitors mopping up the dining area. It looked like they had just finished, as the floor was spotless of any leftover spilled coke or pizza, albeit there were puddles of soapy water left. He looked over at the stage to see the animatronics absolutely still, no singing and no moving. Just a blank stare at nothing.

Mike pulled back the left sleeve of his jacket to look at his watch. _11:50, just on time. _He started to make his way to the backroom, his equipment making a distinct jingle as it shifted in place with each step. The janitors didn't even look up, so focused on the job at hand that it must have sounded like white noise.

The walls once again transferred from the cheery bright blue to the dark blue with scratches and dents, but the severe lack of any lighting only emphasized how unsettling the sight truly was. He ran his hands along the wall, feeling the grooves and etches into the wooden foundation. That's when he realized the markings were too big for human hands, including his own. _Doesn't mean vandals don't use things other than their hands to screw over buildings._

As he reached the office he could see Mr. Fazbear packing up some files into a briefcase before standing up from his chair. _Must be getting ready to leave. _The manager adjusted his tie before turning to the hallway Mike was in, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Sorry sir, everything alright?" Mike asked, confused as to the manager's behavior.

"Y-yes yes. Everything's fine. Just fine. Um, okay, well, I need to get going, everything you need to know is on the recording. Oh, and good luck on your first day!" The manager was in an obvious rush to leave, complete with profuse sweating and anxious looks between the two hallways.

"Well, okay then. Good night sir…" Before Mike could finish his sentence the manager had already jogged out of his office, much faster than the last time he moved. It was a sight to see the man trying to run on his short, skinny legs while supporting his bulbous stomach and clearly unhealthy weight. _Why is he in such a rush? It's almost as if he's trying to get out before the night shift starts._

And then the clock struck twelve, and the already dim lights went out in unison, the only light left on was the one in the office. The only sound Mike could hear was the passive _whiiiirrrrr_ of the miniature fan and a light flickering on and off in the West Hallway. The sudden, loud ring coming from the phone offered a welcome contrast to the almost complete and total silence. _Well, that must be the recording. _Mike picked up the phone, and not a moment after the recording started.

A nervous, stuttering man's voice came from the cradle's speaker. "Hello? Hello! Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?" _Simple enough._

"Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, 'Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death have occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.'" _Great, these people don't want a record of injured security. Not like it matters, it's a freakin' kid's restaurant, no one would even break in here let alone kill the guard. Unless they think something else might…?_

"Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No." _Wait, what._ "If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay."

"So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh... Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day, too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?" _Wait, that was real? I thought it was BS story that some rival restaurants started to reduce the customers._

"Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchmen here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to... forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices - especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort... and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask." _Well, now I know _how _they're going to kill me._

"Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

_Brilliant just brilliant. _Mike grabbed for his tablet and went to turn it on, only to find it plugged into the wall. He checked the battery compartment and sure enough, there was nothing to be found. _Whose idea was this?_ He sighed before quickly scrolling through the cameras methodically. That's when he noticed something. Bonnie the Bunny (he'd read the character's names on a pamphlet he'd grabbed before leaving yesterday) was no longer on the stage, but in the dining area. _As much I want to dismiss this as a cruel joke, I don't think that guy was yanking my chain. Not with the way that purple bunny looked at me yesterday._

Mike placed the tablet in standby mode before placing down on the table and leaning back in the rickety, black office chair. He needed to make a plan and fast. _Ok, the doors, lights, and cameras all use up power, and all of it's connected to a single grid. I shouldn't need to use the lights as I have my own, and all I have to use the cameras for is check up on the locations of the animatronics. Piece of cake right?_

He pulled the Maglite from its respective holster and turned it on, pointing it out the door to the west hallway. Nothing. He pointed the Maglite down and picked up his tablet, checking to see where Bonnie was. She wasn't in the dining hall anymore, but in the west hallway. To confirm this, Mike leaned ever so slightly out the left door, shining his light down the hallway and not just out the door. Sure enough, there was the purple mascot, staring directly at him. And then it moved practically breaking out into a heavy jog to the office, seemingly impossible for an endoskeleton with a bulky metal frame to boot.

Although startled, Mike quickly ducked back into the office and slammed the 'door' button, it turning from a dull red to a bright green as the large sheet of steel closed. He shined his Maglite through the bullet proof glass, catching a glimpse of the bunny's head before it began to pound into the door. He noticed a small UI in the tablet labeled 'Power Level'. It was going down to about 85%, and he compared it to the time on his watch. 12:55. This was going to be difficult.

He checked the cams again, noting that there were blind spots in the cameras near his office before noticing Bonnie was moving away, but the image was too grainy to see exactly where she was heading. He allowed the large piece of steel to go back into its holder in the floor. It looked thick enough, but how well it would hold up during his shift would be another matter. _Well, it worked for the last night guard right? Should hold up for me._

He sighed, cracking his fingers before lifting the tablet again. Bonnie had moved to the supply closet, and to add to his unease, was looking directly at the camera. Mike shook his head, groaning as he put the tablet back down. _The supply closet is just feet away from my office. This thing wants me dead and it isn't stopping until I'm a splatter inside a costume. _He picked up his tablet again, quickly checking the stage to make sure the rest of the crew was there (they were) before again looking at the supply closet. Bonnie was still there, although she had stopped looking at the camera for the time being. And then the already grainy image turned to static. _What the…_

Then his Maglite quickly dimmed before going out completely. Mike lost his cool, quickly reaching for the light button, and sure enough, the purple mascot was again in his doorframe. He slid his hand up, mashing his palm into the door button before resuming his seat in the chair. _Christ… _He checked his Maglite, and sure enough, it was still off. He smacked it with his hand and shook it, but to no avail. _Bulb burned out, probably. But why would it go out at the same time as the cameras? _With that thought Mike picked up his tablet again to check the cameras. Bonnie has resumed the dining room, still looking at the west hallway. He opened the door and checked the time on his watch. 2:00. He then checked his power, which was at an impressive 70%. _It's gonna be a long night._

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><p>6 a.m. came soon enough, with Mike retaining an impressive 36% power by the end of the night. He had to modify his technique, giving in to using the door light in exchange for his Maglite, which he had later discovered had a burned out bulb. The batteries were also leaked of power, leaving the entire thing useless. However, the night had mostly gone uneventful after the close calls, with Mike only having to use the door a few more times at little more than a minute at a time.<p>

As he began to walk down the now illuminated west hallway he noted the large footprints left in the dusty floor. There were also fresh scratches and indentations left in the dark blue walls. _Well, now I know where those came from. _As he reached the dining room he looked up on the stage. There was the purple rabbit, standing straight up with a pepperoni pizza design guitar along with the two other animatronics. It's almost like it had never happened.

He quickly turned to the sound of jingling keys unlocking the front door, and Mike quickly strolled over to the sound. He could see Mr. Fazbear struggling to open the door, a worried look on his face. Mike opened the door from the unlocked inside, much to Mr. Fazbear's surprise. "M-Mike, you're alright! I mean, of course you're alright there's no reason you wouldn't be" Mr. Fazbear stuttered out quickly. _Sure._

"Sir, be frank with me. Do you know about the free roam mode on the animatronics?"

The manager lowered his head, crestfallen. "Yes. Look, I can understand if you want to quit. I'll give you today's pay and you can go."

"Well I'm not quitting for two reasons. One, my rent is due by the end of this week. Two, I couldn't live with myself knowing some poor sucker with less experience than me will come in here and get killed by a bunch of mascots." _And I need to prove that I can at least handle some stupid animatronics if I can't handle a band of lowly robbers. _

The manager nodded. "Well, if that's your choice I won't stop you. But at least know that you can quit at any time you feel the need. Just let me know and I'll find someone else…"

Mike nodded before walking past the manager and out the door. He fished out his keys and unlocked his car, ducking inside before closing the door and turning on the engine. He sat there in the parking lot, recounting his experience that night. _I was given instructions by a retiring night guard. How he lived that long is beyond me. I was also hunted down by a killer animatronic that has the ability to scramble my connection to the cams and blow out my flashlight, but they can't blow out the door light. That would explain why everything is connected to a separate power grid: the animatronics can't affect them._

Satisfied, he pulled out of the parking lot and drove off, planning to get as much sleep as possible to get ready for the next night.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, congratulations. You made it to the end of chapter 2. Just remember, Payday gang robbery oneshot for a few measly reviews. Besides, if you hate how I write you can tell me how to make it better with a review. Really, there's nothing to lose and everything to gain by reviewing.**

**Have I emphasized how unquestionably desperate I am for anything in the form of feedback? I NEED IT!**

**Well, see you in the next chapter... whenever it comes. Freakin' school...**

**EDIT: Oh, I forgot to add in a little trivia. Mr. Andrews was originally going to be the name of the manager, but I made the executive decision to use Mr. Fazbear instead. Now, he's a landlord of a less-than-pleasant apartment complex. **


	3. Poking the Fox

**AN: Wow. Just wow. I updated this. I know, anybody who has been following this, it's been a long time. But I never forgot this, I remembered. The sad thing, is that I just now update this when FNAF 2 has been released, and now my story is even more of an AU. Yay. Well, nonetheless, I have updated this despite my super busy schedule, and I'll try not to make it too long before the next update.**

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><p>As Mike rolled up into the parking lot of the apartment complex, he felt the tension from last night ease out of his muscles. He finally had a chance to really think about what just happened. <em>Ok,<em> _I was hunted down and nearly murdered by a purple animatronic bunny by the name of Bonnie. I have to do this for five nights with the possibility of the other ones following suite. I also just put my pride as a watchman on the line and if I quit this job now, I lose it. Why do I make such horrible choices? _

He sighed before getting out of the car and locking it. He checked the time, which was 7:00. _I better get some sleep. Better to be well rested and ready for tomorrow than to be half asleep while saving my life._ He headed for the apartment complex, his equipment making the same jingling noise with each step, echoing across the dark expanse of cracked asphalt and old cars. The sun had just peaked over the horizon, stars fading into the night sky and the moon already set. _No point in complaining_ he thought as he looked to the rising sun. _I've got work to get ready for._

As Mike reached his apartment after ascending the stairs, he caught Mr. Andrews fixing a sign onto the door. It read 'For Rent'. "Mr. Andrews" Mike said sternly. "Are you kicking me out?"

The landlord practically jumped out of his skin before turning around, making sure he wasn't hearing things. "Mike, is that you? I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Of course I'm here. It's just a night watch job at a family pizzeria. There's nothing I need to worry about."

The landlord let out a sigh before taking off the door sign. "Mike, there's no need to take a job like that. Look, if you're doing this for you rent I'll push back the due date, but I implore you to find other opportunities."

Mike shook his head. "Look, I honestly don't have any options at the moment, but I'm looking for something to replace it. It's not like I _want _to be there, but I _have _to be there. If it's not the rent it's food on the table, or washing my car. I have to stay there, or else I'll be some homeless guy on the street with nothing to my name other than I was a night guard." _A failed night guard at that._

Mr. Andrews let out an exasperated sigh before looking Mike straight in the eye. "Well, I wish you luck then" he said seriously. With that, the landlord went up the stairs to office, taking the sign with him.

Mike went into his apartment and took off his belt, placing on the coffee table as well as his security jacket. He untucked his white undershirt and laid down on the couch, dozing off as his exhaustion caught up with him…

_Mike was sitting at the same chair he had sat in on the day of the break in. He scrolled through the cameras as he always did, almost habit now. That is, until the tablet turned off, as well as the lights in his office. The only thing left on the tablet was a blinking UI with a power supply, and it had run out. The foundations around his office vanished, leaving him wide open in the dark hallway, sitting stupidly on a chair. He reached for his Maglite only to find it gone, along with the rest of his gear. He panicked, getting up from his chair and walking as quickly and quietly as he could down the hallway. It seemed to never end, until he saw a dark figure blocking his way._

_A faint voice uttered "It's me." Mike's breathing faltered, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall. He couldn't move of his own free will. He was stuck there, frozen like a statue, permanently looking at the black figure in front of him. _

_He noticed a white button that said on his tablet, with the UI now reading 'Press it'. It was the light button from his office. It seemed so simple, just press it and know who's there. He was finally able to move his hand, so he pressed the button on the tablet. The whole hallway illuminated, revealing a single man in a suit with a gun pointed straight at Mike. It was the same robber as before. Only this time, the man didn't hesitate when he fired two shots into Mike's chest._

_The security guard stumbled backwards as he crumpled to the floor, grabbing at the bullet wounds seeping blood out onto the velvet carpet. Only it wasn't the velvet carpet. He was now on the filthy tile in the security room at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Freddy Fazbear the animatronic stood over him. "You should have quit" he said in a steely voice. It sounded robotic, inhuman, unemotional. "Now you can rot away. Alone and forgotten." And then Mike was alone, a pool of scarlet around him as the life faded from his eyes. There was nothing he could do, he had no strength and no will. He had failed._

Mike shot up with a gasp, cold sweat pouring down his face. His entire undershirt was soaked, and it had also started to soak into his pants as well. _That was awful. _He checked his watch, which read 2 p.m. in the afternoon. He got up from the couch and shakily limped his way over to the bathroom.

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><p>Mike got out of Camaro and headed for the pizzeria in his best street clothes he could find. The time was around 3 p.m. last time he checked, and he had to settle things with the restaurant before he could get enough sleep to even have a chance at surviving the night.<p>

He pushed open the doors, the hinges emitting a loud creak as he entered. _Surprised no one has oiled those yet. _The receptionist from last time did a double take as she saw Mike enter. "You're awfully early. I actually didn't think you'd come back at all."

Mike chuckled before answering "Yeah, I'm still here. Just wanted to get a lay of the land, see if I can learn anything to my advantage for tonight." He quickly added in "I mean, if someone broke in I could predict the route they were going to take and what they might do."

The receptionist nodded. "Right. Well, employees are allowed to go anywhere during the day as well as the night, though the latter is not recommended. Oh, and employees also get free food once a day, so go nuts."

"Thanks" he grinned before heading over to the food bar which was right outside the kitchen.

"Just a slice of pepperoni pizza please" Mike requested, pulling out his (nearly empty) wallet and showing his employee card. The card had been in the shirt pocket of his security jacket, though it was just a generic piece of plastic. _Probably didn't want to waste all that plastic with employee portraits that weren't going to stay anyway_ he realized.

Mike took a seat at the back of the dining room, looking around. The room looked so innocent during the day, yet so sinister at night. _Talk about a two-sided coin. _The animatronics had just broken out into another cheesy song, this one about having a great birthday. It was obvious who it was for: there was a large group of adults and children sitting near the stage with one child in particular wearing a yellow cardboard cutout of a crown. Mike barely even noticed. He was too busy looking at something far more serious.

There had been an ever so slight movement of the curtain in Pirate's Cove, as it was labeled in the cameras. It was so miniscule that anyone who wasn't trained to see every small detail in a large area would have missed it completely. Luckily Mike's training enlisted exactly that. He got up from his seat walked round the back of the dining room towards the purple curtain with a white star pattern. A wooden sign reading 'Out of Order' was in front of a small part in the curtain, blocking any sight into the stage behind it.

Mike approached the cove, the curtains inches away from his face. He could see past the sign into the stage, but couldn't distinguish anything in the pitch black. _Well, I could just go sit back down and eat pizza and watch the animatronics that are going to try to kill me tonight perform, or I could die early trying to figure out what moved behind that curtain. _It was a no-brainer.

He looked around quickly to check if anyone was watching behind he climbed into the cove in one swift motion. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and he immediately regretted his decision. He was face to face with what could only be described as a worn down animatronic resembling a fox.

He saw the glint of the metal hook out of the corner of his eye, ducking under before dashing to the back of the animatronic. He hopped back as the fox followed up with another swing, spinning on the spot. He was able to catch his breath as the fox stopped the onslaught, the hook at its side and its eyes staring at him.

"Ye be light on yer' feet there," the fox droned out in a metallic voice. "Though, if I were you I'd set sail fer' home. Ye won't last but another night if yer' lucky."

Mike grimaced, looking at the animatronic which he had nicknamed Foxy. "Considering I just survived an encounter with a _talking _homicidal robot I'd consider myself somewhat higher caliber than what you're used to facing."

The animatronic almost seemed to smile, if that was possible. Perhaps it was a trick of the lack of light. "Fine then. When yer' guts are spread across the seven seas don't say I didn't warn ye."

Mike gave the animatronic one last look before heading for the curtain. He paused before he left, uttering "You keep saying that when I last for tonight, and the next one, and the one after that, all the way to the end."

The fox just shook its head, looking at the security guard leaving his cove alive. _I'd sworn to shred any landlubber that set foot on me docks. Ah but he's no landlubber, I'll give 'im that. But does he know his way around the helm?_

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><p>Mike checked his watch as he pulled into the parking lot which read 11:50 p.m. <em>On time for my dance with death. Let's do this. <em>He got out of the car, checking over his equipment again as he strolled to the door. He had replaced the Maglite with a torch and jury-rigged it to his Taser, which he had upped the voltage on with his own handiwork. Being a former security guard had its benefits when it came to creativity with his equipment.

He pushed open the newly-oiled doors and walked inside the building. The sound of his non-official equipment and footsteps echoed throughout the entire dining area. He gave Pirate Cove a passing glance before he entered the hallway to his office. He sat down in the chair and looked at his watch again. 11:59 a.m. "Show time."

The building's lighting shut off and the generator kicked in, the only electricity left being the tablet and the light over his office. He quickly decided he'd rather be hot than die and tore out the fan from the power socket before dropping it on the desk. He turned on the answering machine as the phone rang, simultaneously turning on the tablet's camera interface. _Here we go…_

"Uhh, Hello? Hello? Uh, well, if you're hearing this and you made it to day two, uh, congrats! I-I won't talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. Uhh, it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk just to make sure everyone's in their proper place. You know..." Mike quickly glanced at the stage camera, and his heart skipped a beat when all the animatronics were looking at the camera. _Christ's sake._ _Well, they haven't moved… yet…_

"Uh... Interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn't come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark though, so, hey, I guess that's one more reason not to run out of power, right? I-I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights. There are blind spots in your camera views, and those blind spots happen to be right outside of your doors." _You don't say._

"So if-if you can't find something, or someone, on your cameras, be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few seconds to react... Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course." _Of course._

"I'm not implying that. Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn't like being watched. I don't know. Anyway, I'm sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon." _Well, you could say he's unique…_

Mike sighed and looked at his cameras again, cursing under his breath for not looking sooner. Bonnie was gone. He scanned through the cameras and soon found Bonnie before looking back at the stage. Chica was no longer on the stage. He could the faint sound of pots and pans rattling from down the hall. _Well, now I know where she is… _He scanned the cameras through, locating Bonnie and Chica before glancing at Pirate's Cove. The curtains were slightly parted, and he could vaguely see the glint of Foxy's hook. _Fantastic._

Mike continued his routine similarly to what he did during the first night, checking the cameras and his door lights for Bonnie and Chica and closing them when they were standing in the doorway. However, Bonnie seemed quite mellow compared to her frequent assaults from the first night. _What are they planning? _

His question was answered when Foxy finally left the Cove at 3:37 a.m. The curtain was wide open and Foxy was in a stance that resembled an Olympic runner. Then the cameras cut out. The sound of quick metallic footsteps echoed down the hallway. Mike's heart leapt into his throat and flung his hand out at the door button, but to no avail. Foxy burst through the door and charged Mike, tackling him like a football player. Mike landed with a loud grunt, pain spreading up and down his spine. He reached for his tonfa, adjusting the grip to rest against his forearm, and just in time. He used the sturdy piece of wood to block Foxy's hook, wrestling against the animatronic's inhuman strength with his own. He reached for Foxy's neck as the animatronic attempted to bite him with its razer sharp teeth.

He was locked in a battle of aggression and he wasn't winning, his strength waning with every passing second. _I gotta come up with something fast… _An idea struck him as he continued his fruitless struggle. Mike brought his legs up into Foxy's abdomen, pushing into the animatronic as he rolled over on his back, throwing Foxy over him and into the adjacent hallway. He quickly got up and slammed the door button before Foxy could recover.

"Yer' good Schmidt. But you got lucky. Next time mate, next time." With that, Foxy exited the hallway, heading back to the Cove.

The rest of the night proved uneventful, with none of the animatronics moving towards Mike's office. Chica stayed in the kitchen and Bonnie moved from the Dining Area to the Back Room, but never any farther than that. The only reason Mike could come up with is that fending off Foxy was no easy task, and they animatronics were thinking twice about going after Mike. However, it wasn't until the clock struck six that Mike finally relaxed, getting up from the chair in his office and walking as quickly as he could for the door. He nodded at the manager who had just finished unlocking it before leaving the restaurant and getting into his car.

_Today raised too many questions. Why would Foxy give up so easily, and why did he not try to kill me earlier today? Why would the other animatronics heed him like they did? That's it I'm going to find out what the hell is going on. No more blindly following through with this job. After all, I only have five nights… _With that thought, Mike drove to the public library in the city, determination in his eyes.

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><p><strong>AN: Trivia! Tonfas are the batons with the handle and long stick attached together, with the long stick resting against the user's forearm as they grip the handle. Just something I thought you'd like to know. Other than that, I'll leave you off with a simple request: let me now if anybody that is reading/reviewing/following this truly wants me to keep writing this, as otherwise I really need to focus on my other work, and not having this in the back of my mind would help a lot.**


	4. Resurfacing Memories

**A/N: Yeah, I posted a new chapter. I hope this turned out well, as I went through a lot of writing and rewriting in an attempt to get this to come out right. I swear, trying to replicate human speech in the form of a story is difficult, as you have to think "How do I sound when this happens? What would I say?" Hopefully I nailed it this time, and I hope that you all enjoy the fruits of my labor, as now I'm mainly continuing this story for all the followers, reviewers, etc. that support it.**

**Enough rambling though. It's time for reading.**

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><p>There was no library in the outskirts of the city, so he had to make an hour drive to get to the closest one in the city. <em>I know the library has an archives section, they should have something on this godforsaken place, right? Then again, that library normally doesn't have much on the stuff out here… Well, better to try than not to. After all, if any place has anything on such a creepy and secluded restaurant like Fazbear's it'd be that giant library.<em>

Mike pulled up to the parallel parking spot in front of the library before taking off his security jacket and belt and throwing them into the back seat. He untucked his white undershirt before getting out of the car, locking it as he walked up the steps to the building. It resembled the classical white house look, with marble columns and grey stone structure. He walked inside through the open doors, sighing as he felt the air condition grace his bare skin. He hadn't even realized how hot it was outside despite it being autumn.

The inside was just as impressive as the outside, rows upon rows of book shelves lining the ground floor, with a circular reception desk and computer lounge in the far back. He walked up to the reception desk, a blonde girl looking up from a book at him. "Welcome to the public library!" she announced cheerily. "Do you have a checkout card?"

Mike scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "I do, but I'm pretty sure it's expired. It doesn't matter though, I'm just here to look through the archives. Could you tell me where they are?"

The girl cocked her head, analyzing him before nodding in satisfaction. "Sure thing. They're in the far back next to the computer lounge. You'll find every newspaper article there is to see around here and the outskirts of the city."

"Thank." He walked around the receptionist desk and to the back, turning left once he saw the archive shelf next to the computer lounge. He ran through the alphabetical sorting, and stopped at a bin that had the letter 'F' taped onto the lid. He pulled out the box and opened it, looking through the Fa's. He stopped when his right index finger rested on an old, yellowed paper that had a sticky note reading "Freddy Fazbear's". He pulled out the sheet from the bin and flipped it over to the front.

**Due to the wishes of Mr. Fazbear, any articles related to the establishment Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria have been withheld from the public. You may request these documents at the front reception desk.**

_The owner can do that? How many strings did he have to pull to get that sorted? No wonder the place is going bankrupt. _He sighed, placing the paper back into the bin before popping the lid on and shoving it back onto the shelf. _Next stop, blonde receptionist._

He made his way back to the desk, walking back to the blonde girl's area and resting his arms on the table. She was so buried in her book she didn't even realize him approach. "Excuse me" he uttered politely.

The girl looked up from the book, looking rather annoyed. "You do know you just interrupted a really romantic scene right?"

Mike shook his head, chuckling. "Sorry, didn't know it was that good. I came by to ask about the articles related to the pizzeria Freddy Fazbear's."

The girl's frown straightened out into a deadpan stare at him. "Sorry sir, it's been removed from the archives for a reason."

Mike dragged his hand down his face, clearly frustrated. "Look alright. I'm the new security guard there, and that place is _not normal. _Before I keep going there I want answers, possibly something that can save me a lot of trouble later down the line. Now are you going to give me those papers or am I going to have to leave empty handed?"

The girl struggled to look at him, a conflicted expression evident on her face. "Well, I mean… I guess I could give you theme real quick. It wouldn't hurt…" She crouched behind the desk and came back up holding two news articles. They were ripped at certain parts, clearly torn out from a larger piece. "These are the only recovered papers about that place. Sorry."

Mike took the articles, nodding before heading to the computer lounge. He sat down at an empty computer desk and looked at the first article, setting the other one down. It was dated back to 1987.

**SHOCKING EVENTS AT FAMILY PIZZERIA**

**The popular family restaurant Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria has recently faced a crisis no one had seen coming. Five children were reported missing two weeks ago, and today investigators discovered the bodies of three of the children in a dumpster behind the family pizzeria. Investigators suspect that the other two bodies are somewhere close or in the establishment, and it has been closed while the investigation continues. A recently fired security guard of the establishment is the leading suspect in the crime, but cannot be taken into questioning to severe cerebral hemorrhaging. The frontal lobe of David Schmidt was recently torn off by a malfunctioning animatronic by the name of Foxy the Pirate in the family pizzeria, and has since then been in critical condition. He is not expected to make a full recovery, and is expected to be medically brain dead for the rest of his life. Investigators believe that the former employee most-likely took out his frustration on the establishment by killing its clientele, luring them into a secluded location using a spare suit in the back before doing the deed. **

Mike's face was pale. _Mom always said that dad had died in a work related accident. I never knew… _He placed the article down and picked up the other.

**TRAGEDY STRIKES FAMILY PIZERRIA**

**Today a malfunctioning animatronic called of Foxy the Pirate by the Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria staff and clientele tore off the frontal lobe of David Schmidt, a former employee of the establishment. Here is an anonymous witness's account of the tragic incident:  
>"Well, I was there for the birthday party of my son's friend. We were sitting at a table near Pirate's Cove, the last attraction for the birthday party before everybody leaves, and Foxy was in the middle of his routine with one of his favorite kids. I'd gone there a few times for my son's birthday, and I knew the routine pretty well, until he got down from stage and started to interact with the other kids. That part always got a bit random. So Foxy is in the middle of his onstage routine when I see this guy in the dark corner of the room. He has this air about him I couldn't shake, but I let it go. It wasn't until he started walking to the group that I got really edgy. He walked right up to the bottom of Pirate Cove, and stared at Foxy and the boy. He said something like 'It's me. I did it.' And then Foxy just up and stopped. He looked down at the man and the next thing I knew Foxy was clamping his jaw down on the man's head. Mass hysteria broke out and I ran, not looking back. The most unnerving thing about all of it is that Foxy never stops during his routine. It's almost as if he had stopped and killed the man of his own free will. I don't know, it might've just been the mass hysteria and my nerves…"<br>We will be keeping a close eye on this story but for now, pray for David Schmidt and Fazbear's Pizzeria. It may be the end for both of them.**

Mike placed the paper down on the desk, a headache beginning behind his eyes. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but he was starting to remember...

_"Hey Mikey, what do you want for your birthday?" his mom asked with a smile._

_"I want dad to be here..." Mike said, a frown on his face. "Why can't he come?" His mom frowned at the question._

_"Well, it's simply that he can't come because he doesn't have enough time. His busy schedule keeps him from coming to your birthday. It even keeps him from coming home..." She sighed, shaking her head as she finished the lie. The truth was that his father was a complete psychopath, lashing out at her when he knew she was pregnant. She couldn't have a life like that for her son, so she left him, always looking out for David and trying her best to never see him again._

_The Pirate Cove routine had started and Mike quickly ran over with all his other school friends. Mike had been here a few times before for his other birthdays and Foxy had always been his favorite. Foxy could captivate the whole audience with his tales of the seven seas, and Mike was always his first mate when he came to Freddy's. It wouldn't even be his birthday, and Foxy would pretend to randomly pick someone from the crowd of kids._

_Of course, Foxy chose him once again to join him onstage to be his first mate. This time they were fighting off skeleton pirates and digging up buried treasure, and Mike was too young to care that the skeletons were cardboard cutouts and the sword was foam. It was his time to be a hero again. He and Foxy continued the routine as they'd done so many times before, with all the kids cheering. Mike felt detached from the world, one of the best amongst his friends._

_And then that man came. He was dressed in a purple trench coat and black slacks, with a purple fedora tilted down to cover his eyes. He walked up to the stage Mike and Foxy were playing at, standing at the foot of platform. He took off the the fedora and let Mike and Foxy see who he really was. "It's me. I did it." Mike was frightened as he didn't know the man, and he started backing off into the dark recesses of the stage. He looked out into the crowd one last time, and all he could see were confused and frightened faces, his mom being one of them._

_And then Foxy stopped. His first mate was gone and this man had just confessed to it. There was no justice for this man, and Foxy lost it. He lunged off the stage, screeching with his maw open before tearing into the man, fury in his eyes. He didn't care that everyone saw, he didn't care that he just killed this man. No one messed with the Fazbear crew's kids and got away with it. And then he heard shallow breathing behind him._

_Mike was standing on the stage, alone. Below him was the dying man with blood pooling around his head, and his mother was in the far back, crying into her palms. All his friends were gone, and deep down he knew he would never be accepted for being the first mate of a killer. His world stopped, and collapsed to his knees. He was terrified at the moment, terrified of Foxy, terrified of the man, but the feeling of despair trumped them all._

_Foxy stood up from the man and turned around, seeing Mike's face. The only words that came to him were, "I'm sorry lad. I'm so sorry."_

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><p>It was 10:49 by the time he had gotten back to his apartment, and the bags in his eyes reflected how tired he was. However, he didn't even bother to try and get a shower, he collapsed onto the couch and set his alarm clock for 11:00 p.m. before taking a nap. It was short lived as he woke up to the resounding <em>beep beep beep <em>of the cursed clock. He turned it off and headed out the door, getting into his Camaro and heading for work.

He pulled up into the driveway, not even feeling remotely ready for what was to come. He bluntly opened the door and stomped to his office, daring to scoff at the animatronics during his journey through the dining area before thinking better of it. He could only imagine how much _more _the things would want to kill him now that he was the son of a crazed murderer who had killed five kids.

Mike ungracefully sat down in his office chair before turning on the tablet and answering the phone call.

''Hello, hello? Hey you're doing great! Most people don't last this long. I mean, you know, they usually move on to other things by now. I'm not implying that they died. Th-th-that's not what I meant." _Sure. Any other cover ups you got?_ "Uh, anyway I better not take up too much of your time. Things start getting real tonight." _Brilliant._

"Uh... Hey, listen, I had an idea: if you happen to get caught and want to avoid getting stuffed into a Freddy suit, uhh, try playing dead! You know, go limp. Then there's a chance that, uh, maybe they'll think that you're an empty costume instead. Then again if they think you're an empty costume, they might try to... stuff a metal skeleton into you. I wonder how that would work. Yeah, never mind, scratch that. It's best just not to get caught." _Exactly why I didn't try that._

"Um... Ok, I'll leave you to it. See you on the flip side." _I'm sure you will._

With sarcastic comments out of the way, Mike proceeded to begin his camera routine, only to find that Bonnie and Chica had already moved. They both were in the dining area, Bonnie walking to the west hallway and Chica walking to the east hallway. He cursed inwardly as he mustered up the courage to peek outside his door and whip out his Taser, shining the light down the hallway. Sure enough, Bonnie had already made her way down, and was looking straight at Mike. But she didn't break out into a sprint this time. She just stood there and stared.

Mike got the strangest idea to call out to her, as if she might answer, and he decided to try it. "So", he projected down the hallway, "what's your plan?"

Bonnie almost seemed to smile, saying, "Distract you."

Mike jumped when he realized Chica had been heading down the other hallway. He turned on his heels only to be face to face with the yellow animatronic herself.

"I'll give you a chance to fend for your life like the pathetic weakling you are" the chicken said heartlessly.

Mike grinned. "You know, my ma' always said not to hit girls. It's against the gentleman's code."

The chicken was miffed. "Then that'll make killing you _much _easier." She opened her beak and screeched, displaying her two rows of sharp teeth. _Since when do chickens have teeth?! _

Mike sidestepped past Chica's lunge, avoiding her sharp wings and aimed his Taser at the back of the animatronic's head. _I hope this works. _He pulled the trigger, shooting out two electrically charged cords straight for the chicken's head. They embedded past the synthetic feathers and into the metallic casing, sending shocks throughout the endoskeleton. The chicken twitched and fell just outside the west hallway door, and Mike took this opportunity to close the door. Not a moment too soon, Chica began to get up, shaking off the Taser's effects.

"That wasn't very nice now was it?" Chica asked through the window.

"You're one to talk" Mike scoffed.

The chicken emitted something that sounded like a "Hmmph" before walking off to the kitchen. Mike looked through the cameras again, spotting Bonnie in the supply closet and Foxy peeking out of his curtain. Freddy was, as always, still on stage. _Phone Guy said that he only became really active at dark, so I guess that means he only comes out when I run out of power. All the more reason to be conservative with my power I guess. _With that thought in mind Mike checked the door light from the west hallway and opened the door when he was satisfied that Bonnie wasn't there.

About an hour later Foxy finally darted for Mike's room. It would have been routine if the sign hadn't read 'It's me'. Mike closed the west hallway door, ignoring Foxy scraping his hook on the it, instead thinking about what he just saw. _There's no way. I'm just really tired. That's all. _He sighed, shaking his head before raising his tablet again and checking the cams. Foxy was back in the Cove and Bonnie was in the west hallway. The sound of utensils and pans clattering let Mike know Chica was in the kitchen. And Freddy was still on stage, standing there and staring off into space. What unnerved Mike is that he realized that Freddy was just biding his time, testing to see if Mike could survive his companions first. It was almost torturous, constantly waiting to see if Freddy would deem Mike a worthy opponent and come to kill him quickly. He may have been able to fend off Chica and Foxy, but he had no doubt that he wouldn't be a match for Freddy. Not without something better than a freakin' Taser.

He sighed. _I probably won't make it that long to meet the big man himself. I'll probably just die to his henchmen first before I ever get the absolute_ pleasure_ of meeting him. _The night soon became monotonous and stressful at the same time, Mike always going through the motions but dealing with the fact that the animatronics were trying to kill him. He winced every time Foxy would drain power from slamming on his door, his heart would stop when Bonnie was standing in the doorway, and he'd curse out loud when he saw Chica staring at him through the window. They were deliberately trying to psych him out, and they were winning. He kept seeing the 'It's me' sign hallucination and even saw the text on his tablet once. He could blame it on his lack of sleep, but it didn't change the fact that he was losing it. _And I still have two more nights of this crap. _

6 a.m. couldn't come soon enough. His power was down to a measly 17% by the time the bells rang for his shift to end. He was dead tired, and he slouched into his office chair, dipping his head and succumbing to his fatigue. The manager came in to find his next-best security guard asleep in the old leather office chair, and all he could do was smile sadly at the poor man. "It kills me to see him try so hard to do this job. But, he said it himself, if it's not him it's somebody else…" The manager let Mike be and went to go flip the closed sign to open. "He'll wake up from the nightmares soon enough."

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><p><strong>AN: Well, I'm done. If you liked it, hated it, or wanted to see something different. Post a review. I won't get any better without reviews telling me what works and what doesn't.**


	5. Facing Facts

**A/N: Two updates in day... just kidding. I had the last chapter written already from a couple days ago but I didn't have the time (or the brain) to post it until today. Silly me. HOWEVER, this story is the product of all of today's hard work (and procrastination) and is my longest chapter yet, and for good reason. I'm very proud of how this turned out, and I hope you agree with me in saying that it is indeed one of my best in this story. I've been trying to mix in a lot of stuff from the game (both 1 and 2) to try and make a unique story that still has obvious inspiration. Just me I guess.**

**Anyway, enough of my rambling then, on to the story!**

**EDIT: If anyone received two messages from me about this chapter update I apologize. In my haste to fix one of my mistakes I deleted and reposted the story instead of using the Replace feature because I'm a complete idiot sometimes. Again, sorry._  
><em>**

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><p><em>Mike was in the office, sitting at the chair and looking at the cameras. The east hallway had postings of the newspaper articles, taunting him, tormenting him. 'IT'S ME' was written all over the walls. Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, and Foxy were all at the doors to his office, staring at him. They didn't move, they didn't say a word. But the tormenting looks from them said enough. Mike looked down at his hands, only to find himself wearing a purple trench coat. His hands held a large kitchen knife caked with blood.<em>

_He looked back up to see the animatronics in the room, all of them looking at him, accusing him, blaming him. They stepped aside to reveal an old computer with a fat monitor and yellowing keyboard and mouse. All the keys were missing in the keyboard except 'WASD'. The screen flickered to life and what seemed like an 8-bit game displayed on the screen._

_Mike scooted his chair to the desk and began playing. He was controlling a tiny 8-bit Freddy and he had to give the impatient children cake. He could walk around with WASD, and he directed the tiny pseudo Freddy to the children, satisfying them. And then Freddy froze._

_There was a child outside the party room, crying. He wasn't a part of the celebration and all he wanted was some cake. And then a purple car pulled up, and a purple man in a trench coat and hat got out. The child seemed to increase his tear production before turning grey like a skeleton. Then the man in the car drove away._

_The screen flickered and changed to Foxy in Pirate's cove, and he was getting ready to race to the children. __**1, 2, 3, Go! Go! Go! **__Foxy sprinted for the children and when he reached them the words __**Hurray! **__flashed on and off. Foxy reset back in Pirate's Cove, only this time the same man in the purple trench coat was standing in the corner, watching, smiling. __**1, 2, 3, Go! Go! Go! **__Foxy sprinted to the children only to find rows of skeletons where they used to be. _

_The computer fizzled and died out, the monitor cracking and breaking and the remaining keys on the keyboard popped out, scattering across the desk. Mike now felt a fedora on his head, and his chair was forced back to the corner of the room. He looked down at his hands to find blood dripping from them. _

_The first to begin killing him was Foxy. The animatronic swiped at Mike, cutting across his face and chest, blood soaking his shirt and coat. There was no pain, he wasn't finished suffering. Next came Chica, who took two kitchen knives and stabbed his chest, breaking through his rib cage and into his lungs. After that came Bonnie, who took her guitar and swung it at his face. Mike careened off the chair, falling to the floor. He coughed up blood into the pool surrounding, laying his back and facing up._

_Freddy was the last one, the finisher, the ender. He stepped on Mike's bleeding chest, jamming the knives farther in to his lungs and crushing his ribs. Cracks resounded the room as his ribs collapsed and his lungs stopped. His heart stopped beating, and Mike was still. He would pay for his predecessor's sins, and that was that. "It's not me" he whispered out loud, before finally succumbing to his wounds._

* * *

><p>Mike woke with a start, gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. "It's not me!" he choked out. He erupted into a fit of coughs, feeling sick from his dream. Mr. Fazbear came racing down the east hallway and skidded to halt when he reached the office.<p>

"Mike, are you alright?" the manager asked worriedly.

Mike tried to regain his composure, tears running down his face from the intensity of his coughing. "Yes. Yeah, I'm alright." He got up from the chair, clearing his throat before flattening his jacket. "What time is it…" he muttered as he looked down at the clock. It was 1 p.m. "Christ Mr. Fazbear, sorry I've been taking up your office. I guess I just haven't been getting enough sleep…"

The manager shook his head, smiling. "No, no. It's alright. You looked like you had a hell of a night so I let you rest it off. No harm done. Though, I'd go home to freshen up if I were you…"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, last night was… interesting. Anyway, thanks for letting me get some rest, I needed it. I'll be here tonight for my next shift." He left the room and waved back at Mr. Fazbear before heading for the exit to the restaurant. He noticed Chica looking at him while she was singing along with the gang, staring at him. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at her, his hands deep in his pockets. They held the staring match for a good few minutes before Chica finally looked away and back at the party table, but Mike doubted that it was because she was intimidated. _Someone might get suspicious of her._

He shook his head, walking out the door and getting in his Camaro. He wanted to get to his apartment as soon as possible and away from that place. When he pulled up into the parking lot he hopped out of his car and locked it as he ran for the apartment complex. He shoved open his door and slammed it shut behind him. _I don't want to go back. Not again._ He shrugged off the jacket and threw his belt on the table before collapsing on the couch, crushing his bills. He kicked the cursed things off the cushion as he lay there, his hands covering his eyes. _I would prefer it a thousand times more if I were to just be shot again by those robbers than face those _murderers _again. ANYTHING BUT THAT PLACE! _He punched the arm rest of couch, denting the frame. _It's not fair! If I don't go back more people will die for me, for my father's mistakes. _He sighed, sitting up and tilting his head up. _Which means I will go back. And I will be put in the crosshairs again. And I will survive another night. And that will be my personal hell for as long as I live. _With that depressing thought in mind, Mike made his way to the bathroom. _Better be fresh for my next dance with death._

* * *

><p>Mike was driving back to Freddy's again, though much earlier than his shift. He had his equipment with him in the back seat along with his uniform. Instead he wore his dark blue polo with khaki pants and dark blue tennis shoes. He was here on a casual trip—and stay—after all. He pulled up into the parking lot and got out of his car, walking for the restaurant. <em>I'm just here to grab some lunch… and face my old friend. <em>He mentally reinforced himself as he walked through the doors into the establishment, the hinges now squealing once again. _That was fast. _He walked up to the receptionist and announced his intentions before walking to the kitchen and ordering a pizza and soda.

He sat down at a table in the far back of the room, once again observing the animatronics as they did their routine. It was so ironic how he could sit in this restaurant during the day and feel invincible and yet be so vulnerable at night. He shook his head, watching the animatronics do their thing as he waited for his food. Soon enough the pizza came out and he quickly began to eat. He tried to eat slowly though, as this could very well be his last meal. Unfortunately he was only able to squeeze out a few minutes of procrastination and soon enough, it was time. He was going back to Pirate's Cove.

He calmly walked around the back of the dining area to the Cove, this time not even bothering to check to see of anyone was watching before he climbed in. He pulled out his torch from the depths of his pocket before turning it on and shining it at the fox. "Ye' keep pointin' that thing at me and the last thing you'll see is me hook in yer' eye" the animatronic threatened.

Mike didn't respond, instead asking calmly, "Do you know who I am?"

Foxy looked at Mike as if he had asked the stupidest question to ever exist. "Do I know who ye' are? Yer' _Mr. Schmidt, _as the manager likes to call ye'. Though, I be wonderin', I thought I took out a chunk of yer' head, and I'm sure ye' couldn't have survived that, could ye'?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not him. I'm his son, though I guess that doesn't a make a difference does it? All Schmidts are the same, all security guards are the same, all humans are the same. So tell me this, do you know my first name?"

The fox seemed to think for a moment, his head coked to the side and his snout pointed up in the air. "I believe I didn't recall your name laddie, though I'm sure you'll be happy to oblige."

Mike faked a look of offense. "You mean you don't remember your favorite first mate? I'm astonished. After all, you ruined my life that day when you killed my father."

Foxy did a double take when Mike said the last part. "Mike? Mikey? Is that really?—no it can't be. You're just yankin' me leg. Ye' know, it's not smart to provoke a pirate—"

"I'm not. You ruined me when you killed him_. _Everyone called me the 'Foxy's apprentice' and 'robot's slave'. My mother never even looked at me the same way again, thinking there was something wrong with me, where I could be friends with someone like you. She died without loving me, alone in her own world without me or my dad to be with her. I forgot the whole thing, locked it away in my memory so that I would never have to experience that pain again. Instead, I'm now employed here, as if fate decided to be a huge jerk and stick me in the place I hate the most. I'm Michael 'Mike' Schmidt, so don't you go waving my name around like I'm just another target for you and your robot friends to practice darts with. I was your first mate, and you better not forget it, because I'm standing right here, right now as a ghost from your past, and you're going to have to deal with it right here and right now." At the end of Mike's speech, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he realized he had been shallowly breathing throughout the whole lecture. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down and watching the stunned fox.

After a few minutes Foxy finally said two words: "I'm sorry."

"_That's it?! 'I'm sorry'?!" _Mike fumed. If it wasn't for the fact that he was in a public place he'd be screaming at the top of his lungs, but he vented it out in a cold, steely voice instead. "That's all you have to say to me? 'I'm sorry'? 'I'm sorry that I ruined your life. I'm sorry I've been trying to kill you for the past three nights.' That's the best you can do?"

If animatronics could cry Mike was sure Foxy would be doing so right now. The animatronic had a crestfallen look on his face as he hung his head, almost as if he was ashamed. "How can I make it up to ye' lad?" he finally muttered under his breath.

"Help me", he stated simply, "Help me prove my case to the rest of them. I don't want to die for my father's mistakes, but don't want others dying in my stead. That leaves three options: One, I die anyway, and I _really _don't want to do that. Two, I leave and feel guilty for the rest of my life, haunted by demons of my own device. Three, I convince Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy that I'm not the same man as my father and neither were the other security guards they killed."

Foxy looked up at Mike before supplying, "Well, Bonnie and Chica shouldn't be too hard to convince. Deep down them lasses are soft and don't agree with what we've been doing. But Freddy… your father did something to him that made him hate every human God ever breathed life into 'cept the children."

Mike thought back to his dream and a light bulb went off in his head. He started explaining it to Foxy, mentioning how he had played the game as both Freddy and Foxy and how the children died when the man in the purple trench coat was around.

Foxy seemed to nod. "Aye, I felt like I wasn't fast enough te' save the laddies, and Freddy was always too busy carin' for the children that could be with 'im. But… why would that come to ye' in a dream?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I'd blame my mental state for it but that doesn't explain how I could dream about something I don't know about… Something for another time then." Mike sighed, sitting down on the floor. "We need a plan."

For the next several minutes Mike and Foxy passed ideas back and forth on how to win the other animatronic's trust and keep Mike alive, and after about an hour's worth of scheming they finally had put together a plan. Mike sighed in satisfaction as he thought over the plan one last time. "So, to recap, I'm going to survive this night for now and then tomorrow night we'll hatch the big plan. I'll leave my office and confront them without my equipment as an act of good faith. Then I just tell them my story and answer any questions they have from there. Simple enough…"

Foxy shuffled in place as Mike finished. "Well… the thing is, if Freddy thinks that I'm not trying to kill ye', he'll have me reduced to scrap, so I'm still going te' try and kill ye', or at least pretend to. Don't give me that look, I'll run a lot slower than I did before. Ye' shouldn't have any trouble closing the door before I get there, and I won't drain the power from ye'. Ye'll be fine lad, you survived us for three nights now, one more shouldn't be any different."

"Well, being a security guard at a diamond store has its perks, built in alertness being one of them" Mike stated proudly.

Foxy looked at him with genuine surprise. "Ye' were a security guard before coming here?"

"Yeah, I worked at a diamond store in the city. It ended short when the place was robbed and I got shot. I've never been able to walk on my left leg the same way since."

The animatronic scratched the back of his head. "Well, that explains why ye' were able to fight me on yer' second night and not get gutted like a fish. Ye' made me start doubtin' my abilities as a sea dog that night ye' did."

Mike grinned. "Well, that's another perk: hand-to-hand combat training." He got up from the floor and dusted off his pants. "I better get going, it's… crap, 10 p.m. How long was I here?" Mike shook his head. "Doesn't matter, I'll be back soon enough." He turned to leave Pirate's Cove, and as he approached the curtain he stopped to turn around. "Hey Foxy."

"Yeh lad?"

"Thanks. For believing me. It… helped me realize I'm not alone in this fight. I have a friend who's got my back."

The Fox smiled at Mike. "Always, lad."

Mike nodded at the Fox before turning and leaving the Cove. It was a miracle no one saw him leave, and he quickly started making his way around the back of the room and snaking to the front entrance. Just as he passed the stage, something caught his eye. Looked over and instantly began to regret it. Freddy was staring at Mike as he made his way to the exit. _Tonight just became MUCH harder… _Mike quickly made for the exit, going as fast as he could without making it look like he was running. He nodded at the receptionist before heading to his car and hopping in the back seat. _Might as well get some sleep. _He set his watch alarm and lay on the leather seat, falling asleep as soon as he rested his head. He had no nightmares this time.

* * *

><p>11:30 came too soon for Mike, and soon his alarm was bringing him back from his deep slumber. He shut it off before quickly changing into his security gear and getting out of his car, mentally preparing himself for another night. He was well rested and focused, no hallucinations were going to haunt him this time. He walked into the restaurant and to directly to his station, paying the janitors no mind as they slaved away at cleaning up spilled drinks and dropped pizza. <em>Their jobs really suck.<em>

He sat down in the chair once again, propping his feet up on the desk and waiting for the inevitable phone call to accommodate his shift starting. Sure enough when the clock struck twelve the restaurant lights cut off and the phone rang. Mike picked up the phone and turned on his tablet, preparing to check the cameras once again.

"Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day 4. I knew you could do it." _Wow thanks._

"Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow." There was a banging sound in the background. "It's-It's been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I'm kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you…" The guy on the phone clears his throat. "Uh, when I did."

"Uh, hey, do me a favor." Even more banging could be heard in the background of the call. "Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room?" Even more banging. "I'm gonna to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad." The sound of the metal doors giving in echoed through the call. "Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there." A chime started to play in the background of the call.

"You know... oh, no—" A loud screech could be heard in the background, and then static. _God rest his soul… but his doors gave in. I hope mine hold up better than his did…_

With that thought in mind Mike un-holstered his Taser and flicked on the flashlight, aiming it out the west hall door. Sure enough Bonnie was standing right outside, staring into his office. Mike quickly let go of the Taser with his left hand and moved it into the door button, shutting it closed. He quickly whipped around and pointed his flashlight out the east hallway window, only to find Chica staring at him through it as well. Mike dashed over to the door button and pressed it as well. _Christ, they're already here… _Mike took the free chance to check the cameras, and he saw Bonnie heading for the back room and Chica begin her walk to the kitchen. Satisfied Mike checked the stage and cursed inwardly at the sight. Freddy was gone.

Mike put down the tablet and opened up his doors, shining his light down the hallways. Nothing was there. Mike checked the cameras again and found the faint glow of eyes in the dining room, deducing that it was indeed Freddy who was looking at the camera. Mike shook his head. _This is going to be very difficult with him running about. _Mike continued this routine of checking the cameras and flashing his torch down the hallways and outside his doors, closing them when he saw Bonnie or Chica approach. Foxy tried to run his way a few times but it was obvious that he wasn't vene trying to reach Mike's office, at least to Mike anyway. Foxy still ran like the wind, but it was much slower than the first few times Foxy has tried to breach Mike's defenses. He also kept his word and never tried to break down Mike's door, allowing Mike to keep his power at a healthy level.

However, there was one thing that kept nagging at the back of Mike's mind. Why hadn't Freddy tried to get inside the office yet? It was so strange that the animatronic hadn't gotten close to the office yet and resorted to hiding in the shadows of other animatronics and laughing to try and psych out Mike. _What's he planning? It's obvious he can hide very well… is he trying to sneak into my office while I'm not looking? _Deciding that was it, Mike came to the conclusion of closing his east hallway door every time he was preoccupied with something else, as that was the side he always heard Freddy's laughter from. It wasn't until about 5:55 that Mike started to truly worry.

Despite his best attempts, Mike's power getting dangerously low, and he only had a few minutes left until freedom. The percentage was at two percent, and Mike left his doors open in an effort to preserve what little power he had left. A minute later the power was at 1%, and at 5:58 the power was at 0%. Mike held his breath as he waited for the inevitable, and then the lights cut off. He stood up from his chair, ready to make a mad dash for it when saw Chica flank the right door. She didn't attack him, though he took the message of "Don't go here unless you want to be sliced in half" from her menacing stance. He looked to the west hallway and gulped at what he saw.

Freddy's eyes and mouth were glowing as the same chime Mike had heard on the phone flowed through the room. The time was 5:59 when Freddy stopped playing it and took away the comfort Mike sought after the most: light. The next thing he knew he was falling on his side from a low sweep, screaming in pain as his hip made contact with the tile floor. He reached for the pain in his side, looking up at his aggressor. The last thing he saw was Freddy's padded foot being brought down onto his head before the darkness consumed him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow, that was fun. Also cliffhangers. They're a thing. Oh come on, if you think I'm going to kill Mike you obviously don't know about cliffhangers. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this incredibly long and slightly more dramatic than I intended chapter. If you have any comments on what I did right or wrong, as always, leave a review. I'll have you know I read EVERY review I get, so you won't be ignored.**

**Cheers. -Holyscout**


	6. The Big Night

**A/N: I'm gonna keep this short. Things get real this night. Oh, but before you read on here's some trivia. I rewrote the beginning of this chapter 5 times, all with different scenarios.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Mike was standing in his office again, dimly lit area being so familiar now. It's almost as if he now lived there, despite only visiting it four nights and many more times in his dreams. The fan would always the running, there would always be Chica's cupcake staring at him, there various monitors would always be off, and there was always trash strewn about the desk as if someone had taken a dumpster and thrown it about. The fan <em>wasn't _running and the west hallway door was in mid closing. It was as if time had frozen in the restaurant, and it made Mike dare to venture out of his office. _

_He stepped over the door and past Foxy running to his office. The fox was in mid stride, a crazy look in his eyes as we ran to the office with his hook raised and his clawed hand out in front of him. He peered around the corner into the supply closet to see Bonnie staring at the camera as always, the equipment in the room untouched by the animatronic. Mike could never figure out why she went to such great lengths to not touch anything in the supply closet during her pursuits to the office. Mike shrugged, continuing his journey through the frozen restaurant and out into the dining area. He could see Chica staring into the camera there, her cocked to side as if in curiosity of the strange device. _

_Mike took the opportunity to clamber up onto the animatronic's stage and look around. He was greatly disappointed when it proved to be just what it looked like during the day. There was no back to the stage, as it was just for robotic performers that had no need to go and get props are take a break from their performance. Mike shrugged and turned back to the dining area. The view was impressive, he could see the entire dining area and every entrance and exit leading to various parts of the restaurant. In fact, it'd be nearly impossible for the animatronics _not _to see Mike skirting around the edges of the giant room._

_However, there was one problem throughout the whole ordeal. Mike had started to feel pain spread through his body, from the moment he had begun his journey around the restaurant. It had been faint before, but now he felt achy and sore almost everywhere, as if he slept wrong on everything. He knew this wasn't a product of his dream, something was hurting him beyond his state of slumber. He willed himself to wake up, and his fears only intensified when he saw Freddy begin approaching him from the west hallway. Somehow he knew that if this dream Freddy reached him, he would be dead outside of the dream. He kept trying to get himself to wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP!_

(line)

_WAKE UP!_ Mike tore his wrist free from the grip of Freddy Fazbear and rolled away from the gang. He hopped up and spun on his heels to face the entire gang. Foxy had a surprised and thankful expression, while the others looked infuriated and annoyed. Mike grabbed for his Taser and immediately shot it at the closest animatronic, which happened to be Bonnie. She dropped on one knee, twitching from the electric shock running throughout the endoskeleton. Mike threw away the expended Taser and pulled out his tonfa in preparation for Chica, who was now charging him. He gripped the stick and swung it across the animatronic's face in an ungraceful manner, the wooden end breaking as it made contact with Chica's metal casing. The chicken stumbled into a dining table, obviously down for the count. Foxy was next, though Mike had a feeling it was just for show as the animatronic clumsily charged Mike. All the security guard had to do was side step and push the fox to the side, causing him to stumble and crash into another table.

Freddy finally decided that he'd had enough of Mike's shenanigans and slowly walked over, playing the chime as he approached. Mike turned to the bear, backing up slowly as the animatronic approached. _I hope all that parkour I used to do as a teenager paid off. _Mike backed up a few steps before running towards one of the tables next to the Freddy and jumping up, catapulting off the white surface and into the air above the animatronic. He brought down his fist onto the bear's top hat as he fell back down to Earth, knocking down the animatronic in a single blow. A metallic clang echoed throughout the room as the bear fell down, a sound that spelled 'success' to Mike's ears. However, he was sure he'd just broken his hand or at least severely sprained it from punching the metal casing of the suit, as there was a dull throbbing present in his knuckles, suppressed by the adrenaline flowing through him. His left leg also began to throb with pain from the hard landing he'd made.

He wrung his hand as he surveyed the room. Bonnie was shrugging off the Taser's effects and Chica was picking herself up from one of the tables. Foxy was still pretending to be dazed from Mike throwing him into one of the other tables on the far side of the room near the kitchen. _I'm fighting an uphill battle, they don't go down… _Mike grabbed a chair and folded it, holding the two legs like a baseball bat. _Best to go out swinging as they say. _He was prepping himself for the worst when he heard the faint jingling of keys coming from the manager. In unison the animatronics got up and resumed their positions on stage, with Foxy running to Pirate's Cove. Shortly after Mike could hear the squealing of the front doors opening, followed by the rapid _clop clop clop _of the manager's shoes. Before the manager could reach him, Mike quickly unfolded the chair and placed it none-too-gracefully at a random table.

"Mike! Mike Are you alright?!" the manager shouted as he ran to the security guard.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, why?" Mike replied. He soon felt the warm flow of blood that apparently had been running freely from his nose since he was knocked out. The skin was entirely ripped off from his right hand's knuckles, and as the adrenaline wore off the throbbing pain intensified into an uncomfortable ache. "Ok, maybe less fine."

The manager pull out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to Mike. "Here, clean yourself up with this."

Mike took the handkerchief and dabbed at the blood from his nose before wiping off his knuckles. "I'm guessing you don't want this back."

The manager chuckled nervously before shaking his head. "Consider it a gift from me to you."

Mike chuckled before rolling up the bloodied piece of cotton and stuffing it in his security jacket. "I'm guessing you want to know what happened right?" The manager nodded, signaling Mike to continue. And so he did, talking about the events from last night followed by the fight he got into this morning.

"I just… I've never heard of a security guard that survived after the power ran out. Normally he would get them before it even came close to 6:00." The manager jerked his thumb over to Freddy, who had been staring at them throughout the entire talk.

"I didn't think I'd live to see the light of day again to be honest" Mike admitted. "I guess I got lucky." With that thought in mind Mike began to search for his destroyed equipment, finding his discarded Taser and broken baton. "Sorry 'bout that. I should've used my equipment more wisely."

The manager shook his head. "You're alive aren't you? I just say that because I'm afraid of lowlifes taking the guard equipment and running of with it. I'll get you some replacements soon enough. In the meantime get some rest, you've got a big night tonight."

Mike gulped. "Wait, how you know about that?"

The manager looked confused. "About what? I was referring to your paycheck. Is there something I should know about?"

"No, nothing important." An awkward silence followed Mike's rushed sentence. "Whelp, I'll be heading home now. See you soon Mr. Fazbear" Mike finally said.

"The same to you, Mr. Schmidt" the manager replied.

Mike began his journey to the exit, only to catch Freddy staring at him once again. Mike looked up at the animatronic above him, raised far beyond his height by the stage. The security guard clenched and unclenched his fists out of reflex as he stared at the bear. The top hate had regained its 3D shape after being flattened by Mike's fist, which still throbbed with pain from spraining it. The bear's expression was unchanging and serious, almost as if he couldn't change it willingly during the day. _Their free-roam mode is off during the day, so I guess that's all encompassing to their facial expressions as well. _Mike finally broke his stare and walked out of the restaurant, wringing his right hand as he unlocked his car with the left. He clambered into the Camaro and shut the door, leaving his right land limp on the passenger seat as he started the car and gripped the steering wheel with his left. _I need to clean up my wounds at the apartment. Then I can iron out any details with Foxy this afternoon._

(line)

Mike opened up the first aid kit in the bathroom, pulling out out some gauze and hydrogen peroxide. He dabbed the disinfectant on the gauze before rolling it around his knuckles and hand, ignoring the stinging sensation as the disinfectant cleared up some of the potential infection. Next he pulled out a nose bandage and applied it to the bridge before rolling up the packaging and throwing it in the waste bin beside the sink. With his wounds taken care of, Mike limped over to the couch to find a letter resting on one of the cushions. He opened up the envelope and read it out loud to himself.

**Dear Mr. Schmidt,**

**I was able to get the TV Provider off your back for a while so you can enjoy the time you aren't spending at that place. What you're doing is braver and more selfless than anything I could've done there, and Lord knows you need it the entertainment to keep your mind off of it. I'll still be expecting that rent payment by the end of tomorrow, since you are getting your paycheck tonight. **

**Have a good one.  
>-Mr. Andrews<strong>

Mike folded up the letter and grabbed for the remote turning on the television. He was no longer greeted with the "No Service Available" screen, rather he was watching ABC News. There was a headline on the recent outbreak of Ebola spreading throughout Africa and how nations were upping measurements to prevent mass spreading of the virus. _I don't know why I bother. The world seems to get worse and worse every day. About the only place that seems immune to the whole ordeal is Freddy Fazbear's… _Mike scoffed at the thought. _At least during the day it is… _He shook his head before flipping through the channels. He stopped on Fox 13 news when a report was talking about the Payday gang.

**The crime organization nicknamed the 'Payday Gang' has been running through D.C. robbing various establishments and participating in other legal activities. The police force has suffered major losses from the conflicts and more are expected to follow in suite. Security guards and policemen alike have resigned from their positions claiming that "the occupational hazard is not compensated by their pay grade" and have looked elsewhere for job opportunities. Meanwhile the district has employed the use of a private contractor known as Gensec to attempt to combat the issue with better-trained police forces that rival the skill of the army. **Throughout the entire broadcast the station kept playing phone recordings of four men in suits with ballistic armor over them engaging police forces at a bank, a warehouse, and four stores.

Mike switched off the TV before placing the remote down on the coffee table. _I can't believe those clowns are still at it. I thought one of them finally got caught, so how are there still four of them? _He shook his head, muttering about incompetent police before grabbing a backpack and stuffing his security jacket and belt inside. He slung on the backpack before leaving his apartment and heading to his car. It was almost time, and what he needed the most was a friend to calm him down. He threw his backpack in the back seat and resumed using both hands to drive. He pulled out of the parking lot for what could be his last time and began the drive to the pizzeria.

(line)

It was 6:17 when Mike pulled up to the restaurant. He sat in the car a few minutes, staring through the windshield at the establishment. _This plan will either let me live or die, and that's that. This could be my last chance to enjoy life, and I've only got one person who cares about what happens to me. Well, three people, but one has been with me through the thick of it. Time to pay my dues. _Mike reached to the back of the car and grabbed his backpack, slinging it on before getting out of the car. He kept his bandaged right hand still by his side as he walked through the front door. The receptionist knew his face by now and didn't even bother to ask why he was there. As Mike walked into the dining room he could feel the eyes of the animatronics staring at the back of his head. A week ago it may have sent him running out the door, but now it was just a nuisance; a grim reminder of the difficulty he'll have when he tries to talk to them.

Mike didn't bother to eat or even sit down, immediately heading for Pirate's Cove. He waited until he was sure the animatronics weren't looking at him before he climbed into the Cove. It was an awkward and somewhat slower movement than what he normally did, as his leg was still sore from the fight earlier in the morning. As soon as he was on the stage he slipped into the curtains and limped over to Foxy.

"Mikey, ya' didn't go n' break yer' leg again did ya'?" the fox asked amusedly.

Mike scoffed. "First off, I was shot the first time. Second, no, I sprained it when I had to fight for my life against Freddy."

The animatronic chuckled at Mike's response. "Aye. I have the feeling they'll be a bit begrudging tonight because of the show ye' put on, but ye' should be ok."

Mike nodded, his smile fading. "I've been thinking… about the plan tonight. I've realized that there's only two outcomes. I die or I live. I can't run away now, I have to face this."

Foxy approached the security guard and place a paw on his shoulder. "Ye' aren't alone."

Mike shrugged. "But if you got hurt trying to defend me then it'd be just as bad as someone else getting hurt in my stead."

"I can be repaired ya' know."

"And what then? You get repaired every time Freddy tears you to bits? Why would they even bother to repair you? You're no longer doing a show, it wouldn't make a difference to them whether you're still whole or strewn about the floor." Mike shook his head. "All I need you to do is back me up, nothing more. If that doesn't cut it then I guess I've lived a full life. Doesn't even matter, whether I live or die, I'm just an injured former security guard that no one wanted anything to do with."

All the fox could do was stand and stare at the depressed security guard. Foxy didn't know the problems of the outside world or their repercussions, he'd spent his whole existence in a kid's restaurant. He wasn't like Freddy, who had seen the world for what it was when he was created. "I may be not be able te' relate te' yer' problems Mike, but the pirate's code makes a captain loyal te' his crew as long as his crew is loyal te' him. You believed that I could be better, ye' stayed loyal te' me even when I was tryin' te' gut ye' like a fish. Now it's fer' the best, an' you helped me realize that I was wrong. Ye' may have failed at yer' last job, but you did a right good job 'ere an' you best not forget that."

Mike gave a weak smile. "Thanks." He checked his watch, which read 6:49. "Well, I've got about five or so hours until my shift, and to be honest I haven't slept yet. You mind…?"

The fox chuckled. "I've some leftover props somewhere 'round 'ere. Should be something comfortable."

Mike shrugged and soon found a fake treasure chest in the back, yanking the heavy lug of wood closer to the lit area of the stage. He sat down on the floor, propping his back against the chest. He set the alarm on his watch for 11:30 and laid his head back, falling asleep almost instantly.

Foxy leaned against the wall, his arms and legs crossed as he watched the security guard sleep. "I remember when ye' used to be a wee lad. Now look at ya' me first mate comin' up t' be the captain. I just hope fer' yer' sake that Freddy will be in a good mood t'night.

(line)

Mike was startled awake by a kick from Foxy. "Yer cursed watch has been makin' that racket for ten minutes now." Mike reached for his watch and turned it off with a slack hand, grogginess still intoxicating him and leaving his limbs feeling like lead weights. He slowly got up from the floor, rubbing his eyes and unslinging his backpack. He opened it up and pulled out his jacket and belt, putting them on top of his clothes he was already wearing. The belt was much lighter now, only containing Mike's torch and Taser as they were the only things that could be salvaged from last night.

"Best get to my post, I'll see you later tonight Foxy." Mike peeked out of the curtains to make sure the coast was clear before pushing his way through and walking to the office. He spotted a note on the chair and picked it up, unfolding it.

**Mike, I wish you the best of luck. We had a close call with the last security guard, but all he suffered was a concussion and a few scratches and bruises. The animatronics had stuffed him into an empty suit without any of the wires or crossbeams, so he survived. I don't think they'll make the same mistake twice, however. Be careful, and good luck.**

**-Mr. Fazbear**

Mike crumpled up the paper and threw in the waste bin. _So much for being careful. _Mike resumed his seat and waited for the power to shut off, signaling the beginning of his shift. Sure enough, at 12:00 a.m. the lights cut out simultaneously and Mike was alone in his lit office space, the only noise being the fan. Out of habit Mike turned on his tablet, although he wasn't going to need it. _It's now or never._

Mike sat up from his chair, un-holstering his torch from the belt before taking a step out into the west hallway. He was amazed at how accurate his dream had been to what the restaurant actually liked like at night time. Every shadow looked like something that had nothing but evil intentions, until Mike shined his light on them. Most of the time it turned out to be plushies or some other toy. It was truly an entirely different place when the lights were off rather than on. It didn't take long for Mike to reach the dining area, and the gang was already waiting for him. Bonnie had her arms crossed, Chica had her wings behind her back, Foxy was polishing his hook with an old rag, and Freddy just stood with his arms at his sides, his right hand gripping a microphone.

"So, the security guard has come out ready to die? Too afraid to even try Mr. Schmidt?" Freddy let out in a cold voice.

Mike unclipped his belt and tossed it aside, and the two female animatronics seemed to relax in their stances. "Not quite" he said. "I'm here to rest my case."

Bonnie spoke up from behind Freddy. "Oh really? And what might that be? You _didn't _kill those children? We were just _imagining _that they were murdered in cold blood?"

Mike looked at the bunny. "I'm _not _the man that killed those children all those years ago. That would be my… father."

"What does it matter? You're still related to him in blood, and even worse, his child" Chica piped up.

"I _hated_ my father. He tore our family apart, my mother had to flee him to keep us safe. He was a monster and now he's paying for it. A lifetime of being brain-dead."

Freddy's grip on the microphone tightened. "So? Who's to say you won't be like him anyway? Why would any of you _not _be like him? Your kind does nothing but destroy to get what you want. Anything you create you turn around and destroy, or you create to destroy others. Humans are impure and corrupt, and you raise your children to be just like you. We are selfless and try _so hard _to keep the children from turning into monsters like you, but you always find a way to corrupt their innocence. You're no different from the countless other corrupted humans. I'm sure you remember when your jewelry store was robbed, don't you? They would've killed you in a heartbeat and you would have done the same if they hadn't got to shooting you first. Admit it, you're just another selfish, pathetic waste of life that deserves to die, aren't you?"

Mike's grip in the flashlight tightened. _He's right. I would've killed those robbers if I had the chance, not even bothering with nonlethal force. The only thing I have to justify it is that they would've done it too, but they didn't. Instead they spared my life and took the jewels and money instead. Even _they _realized that human life is more valuable than money, and I didn't. He's right and I'm wrong. _Freddy broke into a dark smile as he watched Mike shuffle in place nervously. "And so the truth flows forth. Admit that I'm right and I'll grant you a quick death."

Mike's mouth was dry. He didn't know what to say. He was going to die, but if that was the case then he needed to straighten out one thing. "If you kill me, promise me this. The next poor sap that signs up here won't be harmed, and he'll work as long as he wants here without you or any of the animatronics trying to kill him or the guard after him, or the one after that. Promise you that you will end your murder spree with me."

The bear's smile seemed to falter. His brows furrowed and he clamped his jaw together. "No, now you're just pretending to be selfless. Admit that you want a way out of your miserable life, that you're trying to prove me wrong. ADMIT IT!" The bear ran up to Mike and swung the microphone at him, making contact with the security guard's cheek bone and sending him reeling to the floor.

The guard picked himself up, wiping his bloody lip during his ascent. "I'm not admitting to something that isn't true."

The bear seemed at a loss for words. Freddy settled for letting his anger out on a table, bringing his paw down onto the top and breaking the table in half, pieces of wood and splinters flying in all directions. "Watch him and make sure he doesn't do something he's going to regret. I-I need to think." With that Freddy made his way to the bathrooms. _That could've gone better. _Mike settled for taking a seat in a metal chair at an undestroyed table, pointing his torch down to the floor.

Bonnie was the first to speak since Freddy left. "Mike—it's Mike right?—why would you do something like that? Why would you offer to sacrifice yourself?"

Mike had to think for a moment. "I guess I feel that you guys have always taken your vengeance on the security guards since you were never able to enact it yourselves. To know that a monster like that is still alive, no matter how disabled, is a terrible thought. I almost find it impossible that I'm even related to the man, let alone his son. I guess I could never live with myself knowing that others were dying for me when really all you guys wanted was me."

Chica was next. "I-we never fully agreed with what Freddy was doing. I mean, we were devastated that the children died, but… eventually we started to wonder why we were killing the ones who didn't do it. Of course Freddy, that charmer, he always convinced us that one day it would all amount to something, that it will be worth it in the end. Now we know it really _wasn't_ worth it, that there _are _humans out there that don't just care about themselves…"

"Aye," Foxy piped in, "What Chica's trying t' say laddie, is that we always thought we were protecting the children from other monsters like yer' father. He always convinced us that the guards would always turn out to be like 'im and that we were preventin' it from ever happenin' again."

Mike nodded, but the moment was cut short by the sound of the phone ringing in Mike's office. "I thought we stuffed that guy in a suit?" asked Bonnie.

"You did. An _empty _suit. But the owner said he wasn't going to be leaving a message tonight. Who is it?" Mike got up from the chair and jogged over to the phone, and picked it up.

"Hello Mr. Schmidt. I am known as Bain, or more importantly, the organizer of as well as the team leader of the Payday Gang. Don't bother trying to trace this call, as I've already hacked your phone system to delete all records at of the beginning of this call. However, I'm not here to threaten you, but rather I want to offer you a deal, and I think you're gonna like it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I think I'm getting good at this cliffhanger thing, much to the dismay of my readers. However, I'll be working hard to get the next chapter while still focusing on my school work. Other than that, I'm still asking for reviews like I do every chapter, and whether just be complimenting the story or offering serious criticism, it's all welcome. Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed reading this.**

**Cheers, -Holyscout**


	7. Update

**Hey guys it's Holyscout here. I know I haven't updated in like a month, blame video games and a lack of inspiration, especially with FNAF 2 coming out and making my time line look like a mess. So, I'm highly debating on whether I should scrap this story and start anew or finish what I started. I'll have a poll up on my profile at some point so you can formally vote. Again I apologize and wish you all the best.**

**-Holyscout**


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